Experiments in Everyday Fitness

The elite wave of the Chester County Turkey Trot in Downington, Pa., on Thanksgiving Day.

Thanksgiving dinner didn’t disappoint, but my post-turkey 5K did.

I ran two 5Ks in Pennsylvania, one on Thanksgiving and one on Black Friday, and I added a full minute to my time in just 24 hours.

Going in to the holiday I would have predicted a faster time on Friday.

My Thanksgiving race, the Chester County Turkey Trot, was massive and had a last minute course change. Snow on Wednesday led organizers to move the race to fit on a high school property. All 1600-plus runners slogged through two loops across parking lots with many tight turns.

There were three waves of runners which helped alleviate congestion, separating the elites from those wearing turkey hats.

The biggest drawback, beside all the turns, was that my wave started late and left me out in the cold for 45 minutes. Nevertheless, I was happy with my time and happier still to run with my husband, Kyle, as my Dad took photos and my Mom watched the kids at her house.

My Black Friday race, the Turkey Burner, in West Chester, Pa., was much smaller, only 138 runners. This race benefitted my high school’s cross country team, and, as it turned out, my race number was the year I graduated.

This race course was also two laps but with fewer turns. Held on wide streets, the wind was more noticeable than the day before as were the few small hills. My lungs burned and my legs felt like they were made out of pumpkin pie, heavy with a little jiggle.

As sometimes happens with small races, there were seriously good runners here. The women’s winner was Erin Donohue, a 2008 Olympian in the mile. I finished just above the 50th percentile. The day before I was in the 15th percentile.

Running two 5Ks in two days was more 5Ks than I’d run all year and I enjoyed them both. I see the appeal of training hard for shorter races. As I ponder my race calendar for 2015, I’m thinking about cutting back on mileage and focusing on training for short races to see what I can accomplish.

Last week was hard. The temperatures dropped quickly and all I wanted to do was sit around and eat pumpkin pie to cope.

In the end, I did sit around a lot, but I held off on the pie.

This is not a long term strategy, so I brainstormed some mind tricks and adventures to help me get through the bitterly cold, dark days.

Register for races. Few things motivate me more than the potential for public embarrassment. Registering for winter races ensures I will train to avoid losing face in front of my friends.

Snow shoe. One of my favorite excuses for not running is that roads or trails are too slick or impassable. Take the guess work out of running in the snow and commit to running in snowshoes. You will be slower, but you are guaranteed to sweat.

Crosstrain. The best way to avoid the cold is not to go outside. For a change of pace, try yoga, strength training or swimming.

Accept the treadmill. This is sure to be controversial advice, but sometimes it is the best option. You can stay inside and not worry about traction. The biggest drawback is pure boredom. This winter I’m looking forward to multitasking on the treadmill. Why not listen to the nation’s most popular new podcast Serial or brush up on my Spanish?

Deep down I know that for every reason to run I can think of I can come up with at least one momentarily compelling reason not to.

The end of the 2014 racing season is near, but planning for 2015 is well underway.

Next year brings a number of exciting inaugural races.

First up, on January 10, is the Winter Warrior Half Marathon, courtesy of Fleet Feet and Yellow Jacket racing. This new outdoor race around MCC enables the brand new Fleet Feet Sports Four Season Challenge, along with Fleet Feet staples, the Rochester Regional Health System Flower City Challenge (April 26), the Shoreline Half Marathon (July 18) and the MVP Health Care Rochester Marathon (Sept. 20).

Later that month, on May 30, are the Ontario Summit Trail Races, a trail marathon and half marathon in Ontario County Park. If you aren’t registered already, keep it in mind for next year. Registration sold out in less than 24 hours over the weekend.

After those three challenges, the summer promises two new monster races.

Running in the dark can be a thrill. With few visual distractions other than your own breath in the cold air, other senses go into overdrive creating a sensation of hyperawareness.

The same cannot be said for drivers. Still groggy or in a hurry to get home, their minds are often not in the moment. It’s likely they are thinking about what they are going to do after they get out of the car, not the runners they pass on the side of the road.

Therefore, we need to do our best to stand out. We need to take an active role in our safety.

There are a number of products and smart inexpensive hacks to make your body shout at oncoming drivers.

Increasingly running apparel, including shoes, has reflective features, but don’t rely on that alone.

The basic gear for running in the dark is a good headlamp and a safety vest. I’ve had good luck with headlamps made by Petzl and Black Diamond, but there are many excellent makes and models on the market available in running stores and local hardware stores.

My new personal favorite accessory is a reflective buff ($25) that I start out wearing on my head like a hat, but usually ends up around my neck or wrist.

In addition to fashioning yourself like a star, there are other measures you can take to enhance your safety: run in well-lighted areas, stick to sidewalks, and don’t run with music so you can hear on-coming traffic.

After a busy year of long races in various temperatures, a few people have suggested this blog needs rebranding.

I agreed in theory, and then I ran the Mendon Trail Run on Saturday, November 1.

I signed up for the 50K but stopped after 30K. A drizzle at the start turned into a downpour. I got cold, felt that I had nothing to prove, and bowed out after three 10K loops.

It felt like the right decision at the time and I stand by it now. Eighteen miles is still a pretty good run.

At the beginning of 2014 my goal was to run an ultra. I’ve done four. This would have been my fifth – and my third in less than three months. I didn’t need to do this, but I wanted to.

What attracted me to Mendon was the location and the price. Many of my big races involved travel. Mendon Ponds park is less than 10 miles from my house. Better still, when I registered for this run a few months ago, I paid $30. Some marathons charge three times as much.

The race course is fondly known as “the 10K loop” to many area trail runners. A mix of the blue and green trails and full of short hills, one loop is a good workout.

Some runners I know don’t like the monotony of loop courses. I love them. I like learning the small details of a trail. Often I’m so lost in my thoughts I ignore or forget much of what I see on the first pass.

Even still, the rain wore on me on Saturday. I felt ok, but, perhaps because the race was close and I knew the course, I didn’t plan as well as I should. At least I should have had a better drop bag with a change of clothes.

Like an athlete retiring before she gets cut, I left the race happy and on my own terms.

The event website offers similar enticements: “Ladies and Gentlemen, throw away your razors for the new year. This winter, you’re going to need all the insulation you can muster!”

Think I’m crazy? There is a 100-mile option too.

I like winter, but I don’t love the cold. I pushed through last year with the help of good friends and group runs and I’m counting on that again. This time I’ll be calling on some of those friends to pace me.

The Beast of Burden course is a series of out-and-backs on the canal in Lockport. Usually I’m not a fan of running on the canal, but I like segmented out-and-backs. Mentally, I can treat it like a check-list, methodically chipping away at the mileage.

My fall race season is rapidly coming to a close but I’m not ready to pack it up. I need a new challenge, a new disciplined distraction away from the chaos of my everyday routine.

Without a goal race in mind I think I would lose myself. Instead I’m going to become a beast.

Around mile 14 of the Can Lake 50K around Canandaigua Lake on Saturday, I wanted to quit.

I was nauseous and I couldn’t shake it.

In my head I composed a draft post explaining to you why I didn’t finish. But, when I got to each aid station, I couldn’t make the words come out of my mouth.

The miles slowly ticked away. By the time I hit mile 21, I had drank enough flat Coke to feel like myself again and finally believed I would finish.

Can Lake was the hardest ultra I’ve run to date.

Before I get hard on myself and detail my mistakes, I should acknowledge that prior to this year I ran four marathons over a 12 year period. Can Lake was my fourth ultra. This year.

On to my mistakes:

I left my watch at home. I realized it about 30 minutes from the house, panicked, and decided to suck it up and run on feel.

I’m terrible at running on feel. I went out way too fast doing 8-8:30 minute miles for the first five miles. (I know because I asked another runner our pace.)

Not having a watch messed up my nutritional plan. I like to eat every 45 minutes. I had no way to track these intervals.

I drank blue and purple electrolyte drink. It looked so good and I wanted it, but my body rejected it. It took me about 10 miles and a pit stop to shake it off.

I did most of my long runs this year on trails. Good for trail running. Bad for road running. My joints were stiff and today I’m walking like a bow-legged rodeo star.

Each of these mistakes, make the finish so much sweeter.

Going into the race I wanted to finish in less than 6-hours. Guessing on how much I walked up hills, I was ready to be disappointed. I was dumbfounded when I arrived at the finish in 5:48.

The Course

Can Lake didn’t make it on my race calendar until about a month ago. The problem with big races is that you are apt to quickly find another one as you bask in your post-race confidence.

I was totally impressed with race director Egils Robs at Mind the Ducks in May, so I had no doubt this race, co-directed with Tom Perry, would be classy and well-organized. I wasn’t disappointed.

The race began at Finger Lakes Community College with indoor plumbing, coffee and donuts. The 50 mile runners (all saints) took off at 7:30 a.m. The 50K runners were bused to their start farther down the lake.

The course had very little vehicle traffic and the rolling hills were challenging but provided spectacular views above the road. On the road I saw a variety of roadkill: a possum, a squirrel, a raccoon, and several flattened snakes.

The weather hovered in the 50s but felt cool at times in the shade with the wind. I’m sure the volunteers would have preferred an extra 10 degrees of warmth, but they did they best to provide their own.

Everyone at the aid stations was extremely friendly. It was hard not to linger.

Often leaving the aid stations I took off barely at a crawl. Many were placed right before or after major climbs. The total ascent for the 50K was 1750 feet.

Reflecting back on Can Lake, I’ll never forget how much self-doubt I had, nor the mental fortitude I had to push on anyway. When I wanted to quit I knew that I would have to come back next year and finish the job. Now I don’t.

Then again, I’m totally in awe of the almost 100 people who ran the full 50 miles around the lake. I want to be like them.

After a long day of scholastic records and races, at 5:30 p.m. adults lined up to compete in an open race.

I was terrified.

I hadn’t run a 5K in years. I like long races because I know endurance, not speed, is my strength.

Last week I was excited to run my 50K. This week all I felt was dread.

It helped a little that I was running as part of a team, Roadkill Racing. The women’s Roadkill team is new on the local cross country scene. Although I’ve come to consider myself a long distance trail runner, it was hard not to join a team of such friendly and encouraging people. Also, I need speed work.

I had low expectations for my performance and lots of good excuses lined up, including: I ran last weekend. My knee hurt and was still bruised. It was unseasonably hot. I don’t like to run late in the day.

When the gun went off I took my place toward the back of the pack and chased the best I could.

The course looped around Genesee Valley Park, mostly on grass. By sight, the “hills” were paltry compared to what I ran last week, but they felt just as hard. This was my attempt at an all-out sprint for 3 miles.

For the first mile or so I was greatly concerned that I might be beat by someone in a frog costume. I was able to leap ahead sparing my ego a fatal blow.

I settled into steady breathing, which was my greatest concern going in, but I wasn’t prepared for how tired my legs felt in such a short race. I’m sure I was fatigued from last week, but this race was another beast.

It hurt, but I finished as red-faced as ever. My time wasn’t great, but it wasn’t as bad as I feared it might be given the circumstances.

Now I have a baseline and a healthy berth to improve. I hope to run at least one more of the Pete Glavin Cross Country Series races this fall – and maybe another 50K or two too.

Start of the ultramarathon races at Dances with Dirt in Hell, Michigan, on September 20. Photo by Kyle Hickerson.

I went to Hell. I laughed when I met the devil and I left him behind.

Last weekend I ran my third ultramarathon of the year, a 50K, at Dances with Dirt Hell in Pinckney State Park around Hell, Mich.

I’m scratched up and bruised, but I had a blast.

The race started at 6:15 a.m. requiring a headlamp for the first hour. I’m cautious in the dark so it assured I didn’t take off too fast.

The first six miles were steady rolling hills with a few short boardwalks through swamps. It felt like forever, but the sun finally came up revealing the glory of early fall in the forest.

I was confident and steady through 13 miles then things got silly.

After a couple turns in the woods we were in the thick of “Satan’s Swamps,” a deceptively muddy section that functioned like quick sand. Runners paused to strategically evaluate a clean way out but often their legs and torsos vanished in seconds. You had to laugh.

It was also a short break from the consistent strides of the first half marathon.

After the swamps, the next two legs were “Stripper Pole” and “Styx, River of Death.”

Hell isn't so bad after all. Photo by Kyle Hickerson.

The “Stripper Pole” featured a spectacularly steep climb, reminiscent of Power Mill Park. Most challenging, however, was following the trail through thick brush. There was not a visible path on the ground so you had to search the trees for yellow trail markers that blended in with changing leaves.

The road into the actual town called Hell was actually a river. After a few short river crossings, there was one extended section with water past my waist. My salt pills dissolved in my pants.

I’m guessing this section was about 400 meters. My legs felt so tired. The resistance of the current was draining.

The river section ended with an uphill climb into Hell where runners were greeted at an aid station manned by none other than the devil himself. Adding to the entertainment, the aid station happened to be next to a park hosting a Hearse car show.

Reflect for a moment on the type of person that might own and showcase a Hearse. They looked as strange as you would expect, but I’m sure to them we ultrarunners appeared stranger.

The climb out of Hell was quiet and the pack I’d traveled with for most of the race thinned out. Going into the last 6 mile stretch I felt confidant and strong. Then, I fell.

Most people I saw fall bit it early in the dark. I waited until mile 26. It was sudden and infuriating. I caught my toe on a rock and tumbled forward landing on another rock just below my right knee. My calves cramped up immediately and I sat dumbstruck on the side of the trail.

Fortunately when I stood up my calves relaxed and I was able to carry on slowly, my expectations from five minutes earlier totally deflated.

The end finally came and I caught the two men who were closest to me when I fell. I ended up second in my age group and 15th out of almost 50 women. The results sound good, but I’m still stewing over what could have been.

The Main Event

Cleopatra and her manservants, winner of the relay theme contest.

When I finished my race the finish area was quiet, except for my friend Maggie who rocked her first 50K with a fifth place female finish.

The main event of Dances With Dirt Hell is the 100K relay. Teams of five cover the same territory as the ultras with extra wicked bits tucked in. I’m grateful for the omissions which included more swamps and a Slip N Slide.

Rochester was well represented with three relay teams. The all-women’s team won the female division.

While our area runners shined in the running competition, they were outclassed in the relay theme competition. Some of my favorite team costumes were ugly Christmas sweaters and UPS delivery uniforms.

Other teams believed less was more. One unfortunate team of men wore adult diapers that were saggy and covered in mud by the end. Another group of men dressed as Chippendales with bikini bottoms, bow ties, and cuffs. But the most memorable relay was the Snowblowers who ran in bright blue bikini bottoms and snowflake halter tops. They blew horns as they ran, were drunk before the start, and unbelievably fast.

Only an outstanding race would convince 16 runners from Rochester to make the 7-hour drive to Michigan when we have so many excellent trail races right here.

Although I ran the smaller ultra, I liked the race directors sense of humor and I look forward to coming back and redeeming my fall next year.

About Andrea Hickerson

Andrea Hickerson: is an Assistant Professor of Journalism in the Department of Communication at RIT. She lives in Pittsford with her husband and two young sons. Andrea has never won a race and probably never will, but she loves to run, especially on trails. She has run four marathons and recently began racing ultras.